


"A Friend's Sister's Cousin's Friend's Friend Was Possessed By A Demon."

by shxnju



Category: Everyman HYBRID, Supernatural
Genre: (and i accidentally just DELETED all of them so i'm typing them again double yikie), EverymanHYBRID crossover, Supernatural Crossover, and i really like supernatural too!!, and there aren't many crossovers for them i've come to notice, but i really like emh, i guess we'll just have to see tho, i hope i did okay?, in a way? almost?, it's been a while since i wrote tags uh, so i wanted to COMBINE them lmao, this kind of ends in a cliffhanger?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 22:34:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15850782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shxnju/pseuds/shxnju
Summary: Garth calls the two brothers up with a bit of a strange request. A demon has been possessing a man in New Jersey, and killing people.. nothing too unusual, but when it gets to the part of him uploading all of this regularly onto Youtube, and especially the part of his eyes not turning black, exorcisms and holy water not working on him.. things get a bit more interesting.





	"A Friend's Sister's Cousin's Friend's Friend Was Possessed By A Demon."

**Author's Note:**

> man i wrote this,, so long ago  
> i originally wanted it to be this big fanfiction with lots of chapters and i worked hard on this first chapter! but i,, i don't know, i just never continued after that first chapter? a part of me still wants too oof but  
> i don't know about that  
> i've wanted to upload this for a while tbh, it's been a while since i read through it, though, so i hope it's good! (and, coughs, more importantly, in character)

The Winchester brothers sat in the front seats of the Impala, one of Dean’s favourite songs playing as they drove down a dark, almost pitch black street, the only thing illuminating it being the car’s lights, and the occasional street light they pass.

They were on their way to New Jersey. Normally, they wouldn’t go there, as the drive was a lot further than they were willing to deal with, but Garth had called them up, asking for a favour.

Said a friend’s sister’s cousin’s friend’s friend was possessed by a demon.  
They told him to deal with it himself; he was a hunter, too, after all. That was kinda part of his job description.

But then he said he had tried, and that any exorcism he tried couldn’t get rid of the demon.

And here they were, driving to meet Garth in New Jersey about the mystery demon  
.  
It took a two (almost bordering on three) day drive to arrive in the town.

Garth was waiting by a small burger joint, which had been assigned as the meeting point.

Rolling his shoulders back with a yawn, Dean stepped into the joint, his brother following closely behind.

He was waiting by the seats closest to the door, so it wasn’t too hard to spot him, even with the newspaper covering the majority of his face. He was probably in the jokes section, knowing him.

They slid into the seats in front of him.

“See anythin interesting?” The older Winchester asked as he gestured to the newspaper. It was clear he was asking if any of their mystery demon’s acts had landed on the newspaper.

“Oh-” Garth shook his head, setting it down on the table. “Hasn’t been noticed yet. A dead body was noticed here n there, but it’s some girl called Linnie. I don’t think these guys even know em.”

Alright, so a totally unrelated corpse winds up in the same town as a demon that’s immune to exorcisms.

Sam decided to dive right into the reason for their meeting. The sooner he knew what was happening, the sooner he could start researching, and the sooner they could figure out if this is a serious problem or not.

“So, what’s happening?”

With a small cough, Garth fished his phone out of his pocket, opening up Youtube.

The two brothers glanced at each other.  
Dean snorted. “You found the demon on Youtube?” He asked, feeling the knot in his stomach start to ease and fade away. “Garth, I know you’re still-”

“Just watch,” he cut him off, holding out the phone after pressing on one of the videos.  
“It was started as a health channel,” he explained, and Dean wrinkled his nose. “But, uh- things started goin wrong.”

Immediately after he finished his sentence, a part of the video started to pay, allowing them no chance to reply to their fellow hunter.

So, instead, they just focused on watching the video.

It opened up half a minute into the video, showing a dark room, wooden floor, wooden walls – the walls sloping like an attic would.  
Two men were visible in the video, one sitting on a bright yellow kiddie chair. He looked tired, to put it simply.  
And the other man was half hidden by the shadows around them, but it was clear that he was crouching, a knife in both hands, the tip being pressed into the floor.

“- we feeling? Feeling good? Feeling sassy?  
His voice was hoarse as he spoke. “No?”  
The man in front of him was mostly unresponsive, expression blank as he loosely held onto his right arm.  
“- I can understand you being disgruntled,” he continued after a moment, putting emphasis on the third word. “I can understand you being a little bit disappointed.”

The other guy – they would really appreciate some name’s right about now, otherwise they would have to keep calling them ‘the man’, and ‘that guy’ – dropped his gaze. Still no reply.

“Being taken out of game,” ~~_Bob?_ no making up names is a bad idea,~~ he said. “You were close to some sort of- clue or somethin, I guess.” Shrugging his shoulders with a chuckle gave the two watching the video a glimpse at his face.  
Young, black hair, a hat covering his eyes. Not good when you’re trying to identify someone as a demon.  
“Not really, but, you were trying, and that’s what counts.” With his next sentence, he raised the blade in his hand, pointing it at him. “See, that’s what’s great about you, man. It’s also.. the reason that you’re gonna die.”

  
_A Youtube channel about health, huh._

  
The way he said that, they noticed- about him dying, it was.. casual. Very casual. If this were just some kids acting or putting on a play, they’d know. They have experience with this kind of thing, and that guy knows what he’s doing.

  
The screen suddenly flashed to him standing up, dancing casually as he wrapped a chain around his arm, presumably to the beat that was now playing. _~~(And to beat the guy in the chair-)~~_

  
Just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.  
“But, fuck it. ‘Cause you’re smart. Yeah, you’re clever.” As he continued to speak, there was more gestures with the knife. This would probably continue – he seemed to have a thing for hand gestures, from the little they’ve seen of him.

  
“Now- he fucking hates that,” he continued, rising to his feet suddenly. ..He? “I love it, kind of. But see, you’re a thinker. You watch, and you learn. You figure out puzzles and shit. Evan, he’s just an animal, he just runs in, he doesn’t care what the fuck’s going on, he’s an idiot-”

  
\- That’s right.  
When Garth first mentioned it as a case to them, he said the kid’s name was Evan.  
Point added to this being a demon, then.

  
“Vinny, oh, he’s more of a leader, more of a visionary. More of trying to keep everyone movin, keep the ball rolling, keep everybody together. Safe.”  
Another name gets thrown in.  
Some context would be great right now – but, they’ll admit, this has gotten them officially interested in the case. Even more than before.

  
“But you- you wanna figure it all out. But, that’s not all there is to you, is there? So I hope you understand that..”  
He walked over to him, stopping and placing his hand on his shoulder. He leaned down. “That’s why we can’t let you live.”

  
And then, finally, the guy in the kiddie chair did something. Until now he was blank – unresponsive, empty. Which wasn’t a good sign, considering he’s their reference to what their potential demon is doing.  
Moments passed, and then- “Why… why wait ‘til now?”

  
“An excellent question,” he replied, spinning around to face him. “See, you’re smart and shit. I love it.” He walked back over to him. “Why wait ‘til now? How many people have you lost?”

  
The man’s gaze dropping to the floor, he continued. “How many _bodies_ have we taken from you? Mauled, torn apart? A few. More than a few. Wounds to the heart, mhm, they never heal. That’s why we waited. We wanted to pulverize ya-” He tapped his chest lightly with the tip of the knife. “Punish ya.” Another tap. “Wanted to make you all squishy-”

  
And that’s when Dean felt Sam nudge his shoulder. Stopping the video, he looked up, and that’s when he noticed all of the looks they were getting.

  
\- Probably should’ve used headphones.

  
Coughing loudly, he pushed the phone back over to Garth. He could remember the channel name- they’d check out the rest of the videos later when doing research.  
But for now, it would probably be best to leave before any more bad impressions are made.

* * *

 

They spent the next few days researching. Sam was searching up more on demons, creatures similar to demons, creatures that could possess humans, and Dean was going through all of the videos.

  
As it turned out, there were more videos of that group than what was just on their youtube channel. It was kind of annoying, actually, seeing as this guy was still running rampant.

  
It took roughly fifty eight videos to get to the one Garth had shown them (titled :D), and those are the just the ones on their main channel, excluding all of the other ones.

  
Letting out a sigh, Dean sat back in his chair, running his hand through his hair as he stared at his screen.  
From the looks of this, this kid had been possessed for a while – it being more obvious in the “hidden” videos (that the group apparently couldn’t even see, for whatever reason). But for some reason he only now decided to come out.

– He wanted them to break first, he had said, in that first video they saw.  
A sadistic, mysterious, dangerous demon.  
The worst combination, and they were in New Jersey having to deal with it.

  
Sam had come up with a few theories.  
As a stretch, their first thought was possibly shapeshifter (due to it being immune to exorcisms, black eyes never appearing), but this was quickly scrapped when they saw him go from normal, to demon, to back to normal within a few seconds.  
Now, their other theories were just as much of a stretch, but something worth considering, at least.

  
They then moved on to trying to track these guys down.  
And it was surprisingly difficult. Very difficult, in fact.  
It took a little while, but they eventually found Evan’s house – but it turned out the demon had moved somewhere else entirely.  
It took even longer to find that.

  
Sam spent the time watching some of the videos where the demon is more apparent, making himself more noticeable.  
It took an hour and a half to arrive at the house- so they weren’t doing too well on time.

  
The two approached the front door, Dean’s hand on the holster of his gun, while Sam knocked.

  
An entire minute went by, and there was no answer. Then another.  
They glanced at each other – maybe he wasn’t going to answer at all, in which case they may have to force their way in -, and then, finally, the door opened, and the demon stood in the doorway, looking them up and down with a raised eyebrow.

  
“Visitors,” he said casually, ignoring the blood splatters on his face. He was still wearing that hat. “Lemme guess- you saw the video, wanted an autograph? Whadda say- want it carved into the arm? Maybe big ol cursive letters on your throat.”

  
“What are you?” Dean asked, ignoring the question and raising the gun, pointing it at him.

  
“Ooh, straight past the introductions, huh,” he replied, peering into the barrel. “Nice gun, by the way. I’m planning on using one myself.”

Leaning back, he used his hands as a pretend gun, mimicking a gunshot. _“Bang.”_

  
Taking a small step back, he pulled a knife out of its sheath. He then stepped out of the house, grinning up at the two.

  
Despite the obvious height differences (along with how they looked like they could easily take him down), he didn’t seem at all intimidated, and was obviously confident that he could kill them both.  
That was the direction he seemed to be taking this, in fact.

  
Sam was quick to speak, but also went for his own gun. Can’t be too careful. “- We don’t want to hurt the kid.”

  
The demon – HABIT, they learned he was called, during their research – paused, and scoffed loudly. “What, **Evan**?” He asked gesturing to himself. His voice distorted briefly – which made _them_ pause. “Aw, don’t let him stop all the fun.” He grinned, and there was more distortion. “ **It was just starting**.”

  
Hesitation, but they kept their guns up.

  
“Why are you- what’s the point of putting it online? Is Crowley making you do this?”

  
HABIT raised an eyebrow at Sam’s questioned, interested. “Ooh, Crowley, huh. Sounds like an interestin guy. And obviously someone important n powerful, by the looks on your faces,” he chuckled lightly.

  
“I’ll have to meet him sometime,” HABIT continued as he looked down at the knife, casually examining it.  
There were still faint traces of blood scattered across it – from its last victim. Jeff, probably.

  
But what he said was what concerned them. It changed things.  
All demons know Crowley, no matter how vaguely. _He’s the King of Hell, for god sake._

  
“You’re not – you’re not a demon,” Sam breathed in realization.

  
A short mix of a scoff and a chuckle, and HABIT shrugged, the knife almost striking them with the movement. “’ve been called worse. Let me guess- you’re hunters, right? You go lookin around, searchin for monsters that make real big bumps in the night, n wipe em out.”

  
Not waiting for an answer, he continued.

“Well, too bad for you, there’s nothin out there on me. So you might as well go back to your bus and return to wherever you came from. Well- you’ll be doing that in a body bag, but still. I’ve got things to do, people to say hi to. Can’t have you getting in my way, you understand.”  
Then he lunged.

  
He went for Dean first, swinging the knife. He was a lot faster than they originally thought he would be (even with the video footage). He managed to cut into his arm – and it was no small scratch –, even with Dean’s reflexes, sharpened from years of training.  
Dean was still quick to respond, however, ducking low and elbowing him harshly in the nose, forcing him to take a step back.

  
HABIT just laughed, and swung his knife again, this time making a scratch just a few inches below his eye.

  
Sam went to join the fight, but he – along with the other two -, stopped when they heard a voice coming from inside of HABIT’S house.

  
“H-” the weak, croaky voice coughed. They were in a lot of pain, by the sounds of it. “Hel-lo? Is.. Is somebody… there? A-Anybo-” Another cough. “Please, help m-” They then burst into a coughing fit, which followed with the sound of blood splattering on the floor.

  
They couldn’t continue this fight – not while there was someone so badly hurt, so close to them.  
At least, Sam reached this conclusion. Dean still had his doubts, which was clear in his eyes when the brothers looked at each other to decide on what to do.  
Dean wanted to continue the fight, to take this fucker down before he became even more of a threat.  
Sam wanted to find whoever was inside the house, and get them help.  
Whatever decision they would have eventually come to, it was never found out, because the source of this problem soon spoke.

  
“I see you’re at an impasse,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, shifting from one foot to the other; he wasn’t one for keeping still for very long. “Well, how about I make this real easy for ya, and explain the situation, cause you don’t seem to be seein all the pieces.”

  
HABIT pointed at them with his knife. “You guys are hunters. Demons, ghosts, vampires, zombies probably- all that shit. You came here probably expectin a demon. But you’ve got something new – and all you know is a name. Hell, the people I’ve killed in the last week probably knew more than you idiots do.”

  
He then pointed to the house.  
“And here, we have someone inside, bleeding from practically every orifice and then some. Who are they? You don’t know. How much danger are they in of dying this very second? Also don’t know.”  
“So..” He lowered the knife with a small shrug. “Sounds to me like you’re pretty fuckin outgunned. ‘m sure mommy wouldn’t be mad at you for coming home from school early today.”

  
HABIT opened his arms – yet another gesture -, looking at them both. “So, what’ll it be? We gonna do the smart thing and go home to mommy, a little ashamed and- maybe with a broken wrist or two,” he asked, voice dropping down to a low murmur with the last part of that sentence, before picking back up to its normal volume, continuing.  
“Or are we gonna try to be the heroes and save the random bleeding out stranger of the week?”

  
They didn’t have to look at each other this time. It was clear – maybe not obvious, but obvious to them – that they had made up their mind.

  
After all, what was their motto?

  
_Where’s the pie?_  
No, not that – the other one.

  
_Saving people, hunting things, the family business._

  
There we go, that’s better. Yes, that one.

  
And right now, there was a monster in front of them that needed hunting, and a person that needed saving.  
Dean took in a breath, as did his brother, and they prepared themselves for a fight, and, hopefully, a quick escape.

  
A long moment passed. A moment of silence; of HABIT watching them closely, eyes narrowed. Of the Winchester brothers trying to quickly form a plan of how they would get past a monster they knew nothing about, and how they would get away.  
And then that moment passed, and it happened.

  
Dean lunged forward, tackling HABIT onto the ground, causing him to grunt in surprise, almost loosing grip of his knife.  
Sam took the opportunity and ran for the house (they had silently agreed that Sam would go for it, because he would be faster with getting them out).

  
On the outside, it looked like a perfectly normal house. Nothing made it different to the others, its design was boring, the most unique thing maybe being the way the front doors were.

But when you stepped inside, however; when you walked through the door, everything changed.  
There were blood splatters on the wall, a few droplets falling from the ceiling (how that happened, they weren’t going to ask), three severed fingers on the table – and probably more, if he had been given longer than a few seconds to observe his surroundings as he rushed into the house.  
All he was given were a few seconds; just long enough to look for whoever was inside.

  
Sam found him pinned to a wall, knives shoved his shoulder blades to keep him up (where they remained).

  
He didn’t get a good look at him, though – just enough to know that a hospital trip was more than necessary – before he moved over, hands tightly gripping at the blood slicked handles, tugging at them and tearing them from his body, earning a weak groan.  
Because that was all he could manage in this state. Just a weak groan in response to a blade being ripped from a bone.  
Yep, a hospital visit was definitely called for.

  
With a grunt of effort, he managed to – more or less – lift him to his feet.  
He couldn’t stand on his own, though (he had a feeling he might be missing a few toes, or maybe a foot), so he ended up having to lean on the hunter while they made their attempt to flee from the house.

  
Meanwhile, Dean and HABIT were fighting again.

  
While his strength remained uncertain, it was obvious that he was having fun with this, putting a great amount of effort into lunging from side to side, mouth stretching into a grin, as he laughed.

  
Which, in a nutshell, told Dean that he was fighting a psychopath. Great.  
The hunter’s gun had slipped from his hand when he was dodging out of the way of the knife, making him curse under his breath.

  
He didn’t have enough time to snatch it back into the air and still avoid the next strike, but he couldn’t let HABIT get close to it – so in the end, he ended up just kicking it away, leaving him without a gun.  
Luckily, he did still have a knife in his pocket (as he usually did), and he pulled it out.

  
He wasn’t so accustomed to using blades, though. Normally they only used them for rituals, or to summon some asshole king of hell to help them save them world.  
For actual combat itself, it was mainly used for decapitating a vampire, or possibly for fighting the odd shapeshifter or werewolf (if they really got desperate).

  
But he could improvise.

  
He was a hunter, a Winchester, it’s what they do, after all.  
Fingers tightening around the knife, eyes narrowing, Dean lunged at the possible but maybe not demon, faking a swing to the face, before ducking low and elbowing him in the stomach, knocking him to the ground.

  
Despite how much fun he seemed to be having, it didn’t look like he was trying too hard to actually fight him; it was more like he was play fighting, occasionally dealing out a hit that could actually harm him, and then straight back to playing around.

  
Back now on the ground, jacket probably stained by the damp grass he was lying on, the strange monster giggled.

  
But then, when Sam started carrying his latest victim out of the house, he stopped, and sat up.

  
He squinted. “Might wanna call off your giraffe there, squirrel,” he said, eyes flickering over to Dean, as he got to his feet. “Or else you’ll be losin one of those precious eyes of yours.”  
The Winchester merely replied with a scoff, jumping to his feet and quickly making his way over to his brother, helping to carry the weight of the injured stranger.

  
Still sitting on the grass, HABIT watched as they rushed to try and get him – presumably – to their car, as quickly as they could.  
“Well, isn’t that just rude. You come to my house, attack me and ask all sorts of private questions, and then you steal my food.” A brief moment passes and he added a scoff, the mocking tone only growing heavier.

  
The brothers didn’t so much as give him a glance as they ushered the man into the back seat of the Impala.

 


End file.
